Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.

I wanted to share one of my favorite tools for organizing life as a mom: time-blocking. This approach has worked for me in so many stages of life – when I was a new stay-at-home with little kids, when I was homeschooling, and now as a stay-at-home mom with school-aged kids who are away from the house for a few hours each day.

Time-blocking is a way to give yourself a routine that includes plans for all the major things you need to get done every week – without setting a rigid, minute-by-minute schedule. Here’s my current time-block layout for this school year:

YES, I know: I’m an ultra-nerd who likes color coding and owns a lot of pens and highlighters. You can do this with pencil and the back of your kids’ school newsletter, though. (Well, maybe keep the school newsletter on the fridge so you won’t miss the Book Fair. But you know what I’m saying. It doesn’t have to be fancy. Use what you have.)

I like using a legal pad because I can do 3o-minute time slots from the time I wake up until my kids’ bedtime. I write times down the left margin and the five weekdays across the top. (I don’t currently time-block our weekends, but you could if that fits your family!)

The first thing I write in is school drop off and pick up. These are the rails on the road of my kid-free time, so I need to respect the time they take. Next, I put in two hard and fast time commitments: my volunteer afternoon at my kids’ school, and the Ladies’ Bible study I joined in the fall.

Then I considered time for fitness. I have been attending a group fitness class, so it went on the weekly grid, and then I added two days to run and one day to bike.

On Wednesday, I typically try to schedule errands and appointments in the morning while our housecleaners are here working their deep-scrubbing magic. I like seeing them and chatting each week, but then I try to get out of their hair because they work as a great team and I don’t want to disrupt their flow. When I get home, the lovely clean house makes me want to tackle my chores – I stumbled across an Instagram friend who calls the day she manages all the home stuff that tends to pile up her “lady of the house” day. It cracked me up and I borrowed it!

That left me with Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday afternoons wide open. Thursday is Chris’ day off, and we don’t get hang out and go on dates every week – but I like reminding myself of the opportunity. So it’s penciled in for day dates! Then I have blocks on Tuesdays & Fridays I labeled for chore catchup (’cause let’s be honest, there’s always a few more chores to tackle!), hobbies, projects, and friends.

Y’all. That has been the very best investment I’ve made in my mental health this school year. I’ve been more conscious to schedule time with friends – a few coffee dates, breakfast dates, lunches, walks, and just hanging out with people – every week. The reality is that I can’t spend three hours, two days a week, just chilling with my homies. I do have some adulting to do. BUT having that reminder in my time block reminds me to try to get together with someone each week. It’s also reminded me that the projects and hobbies I love don’t just happen – I have to carve out time to do them.

Back to the blocks: at that point, I had two tiny spots in my school-day that were blank, so I filled them with “write.” I haven’t used them as consistently as I would like until November started and I jumped into another NaNoWriMo. But that big block at 5:00 a.m.!? I’ve been writing almost every single day thanks to this commitment. It’s been wonderful! And at 6:00 a.m., I step away from my fictional world and start my morning routine. (It actually also includes my quiet time – prayer and reading my Bible – too. I can’t remember why I didn’t write that down initially.)

The after-school/evening section undergoes the most shifting. When I created this page, my youngest was playing baseball. That season has ended, but in a few weeks she is heading back on the ice for skating lessons one night a week and her big sister is starting art lessons one evening a week.

This tool has been so wonderful for me. I love the flexibility — if a certain doctor can’t see me on my preferred Wednesday, then I try to shift all my errands to whatever day the appointment needs to be, so that I can still focus on utilizing one day to be out of the house a bunch and another day to stay home and do my projects or chore catchup.

Over the next few weeks, I’m going to share more of the ways I stay personally organized and keep my family organized! Check back soon.

“I’m so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers. It would be terrible if we just skipped from September to November, wouldn’t it?” -Anne Shirley, Anne of Green Gables by L. M. Montgomery

When I was a girl, I adored Anne Shirley. I hadn’t her tragic background nor her dramatic flair, but I loved the exuberant way she expressed herself. Those monologues, when an enraptured Anne would go on and on about something she loved, charmed my socks off. That was how I talked, too — inside my head.

I remember worrying from a very young age that the monologues and scenarios I imagined in my head were an indicator of a mental health problem. (Back then, before I learned that ‘crazy’ is a pejorative, I would’ve put it like this: “I talk to imaginary people a lot. Does that mean I’m crazy?”) When I was around 10 or 11, I picked up on the notion that what separates the mentally ill from the mentally healthy is that the latter may have an imaginary friend, but the former talks to imaginary friends and they talk back. That was probably supposed to make me feel better. I was supposed to think, “Well, golly, I’m 100% sure that this is all in my own imagination. It doesn’t feel like a separate entity no one else can perceive is speaking to me, so I’m fine.” Instead, my little brain warped it so that I thought, “Hmm, sometimes when I engage in these long conversations in my head, I really do imagine what the other people say back. Maybe that means I AM crazy.”

So you see, it felt like it was only a matter of time before my parents and the rest of the world figured out I was insane. I was sure that the clock was ticking and when they discovered my secret, I’d be in trouble at best – or at worst, hauled off to an asylum for some good old-fashioned shock therapy. (I was a weird kid and had read some admittedly unhelpful books on the subject of mental health.)

I wish I could remember having a moment of epiphany, but instead my late teens and early twenties simply gave me a gradual slide to a state of comfort with the way my mind worked. I stopped fretting about a clinical diagnosis (and I learned not to throw around the word ‘crazy,’ even in my own mind about my own self) and accepted the fact that I have an active imagination.

I eventually realized that the way I’m wired keeps my sense of wonder and laughter close to the surface – which is definitely part of what makes me a great teacher of young kids. I realized that my imagination sometimes works against me, when it manifests as generalized anxiety, and that I can control that part with medication, therapy, and mindful practices. (So: interestingly enough, I do have a mental health diagnosis, just not the one I feared when I was a kid.) I realized that my imagination is like a puppy with a lot of energy, and if I set it to the task of writing –dreaming up an entire novel-sized world of people and places and situations– it’s a lot less likely to bother me by misdirecting that energy*.

So. Like the effusive Anne Shirley, I’m glad to live in a world where we get to enjoy Octobers. This time of year is beautiful here in western Kentucky, and autumn always seems to renew my energies. I’m thankful for what I’ve learned about imagination, because embracing mine opened up the path for me to explore writing. Even if my novels never hit bookshelves, the act of writing them has been wonderful in and of itself.

Because, as Anne Shirley would say, “when you are imagining, you might as well imagine something worthwhile.”

*for more on that notion, I highly recommend Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert. Her analogy about creativity as an overactive dog sparked an instant sense of “hey me too!” in my heart and you might enjoy it, also.

It’s nearly that time again, y’all. It’s about to be November, and that means NaNoWriMo is upon us! National Novel Writing Month is a really fun, inspiring initiative where folks sign up to attempt to write a 50,000 word novel in the 30 days of November.

It’s frantic. It’s beastly. It’s exhilarating. It’s insane!

I’m doing it again. I ‘won’ Nanowrimo in 2015 (anyone who completes 50,000 words by November 30th is declared a winner) and took that manuscript through another 40,000 words, beta readers, critique partners, edits and rewrites, queries and submissions and revise-and-resubmits to literary agents… and now it’s literally shelved in my office. Maybe someday I’ll pull it out and polish it up and send it back into the query trenches. Maybe it was never meant for the world’s eyes. I’m not sure, but it was a wonderful experience and I finally feel ready to try again.

I’m not quite playing by the official rules, however. Nano encourages writers to start fresh with a blank page and a brand-new idea on November 1st. They tell people to do some research, character sketches, outlining and such – but no writing until the month begins.

A few months ago — after lots of non-writing around these parts– I was laying in bed, about to drift off to sleep, when a Perfectly Formed First Line came into my head. I sat straight up and said it out loud, then tapped it into my notes app on my phone. Eventually, I daydreamed up the person behind that first line, and I got a tiny sliver of a notion of who she was and what she wants out of life.

I sat down and started writing. At the end of September, I had about 15,000 words. Enough to know that I really love this character and this setting. I’m a pantser (as opposed to a plotter, one who plots and outlines each scene before writing; I fly by the seat of my pants) so I had very little idea what the story was about in a big sense. I had no elevator pitch, no back-cover copy. But I loved this girl, as broken as she is, and I was watching her fight for redemption, and I loved it.

I set a goal to double my word count by the end of October. If I added 500 words per day, I could hit 30,000; then if I play along with Nanowrimo and add another 50,000 words, I would have a complete (or very nearly so) first draft by November 30th. Today is October 24, and I have 28,625 words in this manuscript. (I know, if you’re a nonwriter that is total gobbledygook! I apologize. It’s about ten chapters, or not-quite-100-pages in an average sized novel.

If you need me, I’ll be up every morning for the next six weeks at least at 5:00 a.m. making coffee, stumbling to my computer, and trying to dream up the resolution to this drama that has played out in my brain. (And then midday I’ll probably be napping on the couch because writing plus full-time momming wears me out.)

I believe that writing down, speaking up, typing out all give life and color and meaning to ideas that need to be shared.

I love when a turn of phrase or a perfect analogy lodge in my head for days.

I believe that stories give us connections – to our past, to our future, to folks we’ve never met halfway around the globe or the guy on the corner or the lady down the street.

I love pressing a book into someone’s hand with an urgent “you have to read this” and I love retelling my favorite memories with my favorite people for the hundred-millionth repetition, with no urgency at all.

I believe that my heart contains sparks of story that are begging to be told, shared, repeated & remembered.

And in the past 21 days, God has answered both of these prayers. On June 28, Susannah had her echocardiogram, and the results were completely normal. No arrhythmias or anatomical problems. Her heart is perfectly healthy. Praise the Lord!

On July 19, we met with the nephrologist about her kidney cyst. It is small (6mm x 7mm) and appears to be simple. (This terminology is in contrast to a complex cyst, which is more likely to be precancerous than a simple cyst.) At this time, the cyst does not require intervention or treatment. Praise the Lord!

However, simple renal cysts are rare in children. So Dr. Shah has recommended the following plan:

–immediately discontinue the use of ibuprofen/Motrin/Advil (because anti-inflammatories can be nephrotoxic; she may still use Tylenol/acetaminophen for pain or fever)
–monitor blood pressure any time she is seen by pediatrician (our pediatric clinic already does this because they are the best)
–encourage her to stay hydrated and to not “hold it” when she needs to urinate

If her labwork now is normal, we maintain the care plan until her 6 month follow-up. At the 6-month visit, if the labwork is still normal and the cyst is unchanged, then she will need only yearly or biennial monitoring.

So, how can you pray for us? Please pray: that Susannah’s bloodwork would show healthy renal function; that her ultrasound would confirm that the cyst is simple in structure and size; that her blood pressure would remain normal; and that the cyst will not grow or duplicate.

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” ~Philippians 4:6-7

This is good news, right? It means that she doesn’t need neurosurgery.

But it also means that we didn’t get an explanation for all her symptoms, and it means that we can’t resolve all her symptoms with one surgery.

The MRI found a cyst on her right kidney, so we now need to follow up with a pediatric nephrologist.

Additionally, we went back to the rheumatologist who first discovered her scoliosis to ask about a connective tissue disorder called Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome. I thought, from my reading, that Susannah (and I) had a lot of the hallmarks of EDS. The rheumatologist ruled out EDS, but did order an echocardiogram for Susannah based on my history with mitral valve proplapse. There are a number of other connective tissue disorders which present with hypermobility, scoliosis, and heart problems – so we need to check that out.

At the moment, there’s no healing in sight.

However, we’re thankful that the echocardiogram can be done here in town (so we don’t have to add another day trip to Louisville to the calendar) and thankful for every big diagnosis that has been ruled out. I’m thankful that Susannah’s pain levels are manageable and seem to be a little improved lately (my hypothesis is that the warm weather is helping).

I know, it seems a little crazy to write about believing for full healing and then to come back with a report that my kid is still dealing with chronic pain and to talk about being thankful. It seems a little crazy to say that I believe that God uses every part of our stories for our good and for His glory. But I really do feel thankful for the good things and I honestly do believe that. Because I believe this:

“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
‭‭Ephesians‬ ‭3:20-21 NIV

God can do – and usually does! – immeasurably more than we can ask or imagine. Have you ever experienced a holiday or birthday when folks asked what you wanted? And maybe you couldn’t think of anything, or maybe you didn’t want to ask for anything outrageous, so you named a small little trinket or memento you might like. But the day rolled around and you were absolutely blown away by what you unwrapped. It was way more, way bigger, or more lavish, or more ‘perfectly you’ than the little thing you had asked for. God is in the business of giving out gifts like that. He not only knows what we’re asking and imagining — He also knows how the whole story ends. So what He gives and when He gives it all make sense when you get to the end of the book.

I’m praying for full healing of Susannah’s kidney cyst, or that if it’s still present when we get to nephrology that they’ll decide it’s a simple cyst which needs no intervention. I’m praying for the results of her echocardiogram, that it would show her little heart beating in perfect rhythm. I believe God is able to give us both those good gifts.

And even if He doesn’t, I still trust that the Author of my girl’s story is working out something glorious.

Y’all, I’m in love with a new ‘gram. I mean, I’m still on Insta, but my heart belongs to another.

Have you met… the Enneagram?

Folks. Folks! This thing has blown me away. I heard about it first online somewhere. (Probably Instagram, honestly. I follow a lot of thinkers and writers and I’m not sure who first mentioned it there.) Then a college friend, who’s now an awesome pastor doing amazing justice work in Atlanta, mentioned his Enneagram (pronounced: any-uh-gram) number on Facebook – which perked my ears up a little. If he’s into it, it must be something worth a look.

I remember Googling it and immediately feeling skeptical and distrustful. Like, who needs another personality survey in her life? I’m an INFP and my love languages are time & touch; I’m a Red and a Phlegmatic. What good is a number?

Then Jen Hatmaker interviewed Chris Heuertz on her podcast and he talked about the Ennegram as a whole and his book, The Sacred Enneagram, which delves into how the Enneagram works as a spiritual development tool.

And my brain exploded.

Unlike the Meyers-Briggs, the Enneagram doesn’t just tell you where you fit in a little box (or in this case, on a little circle). The Enneagram is dynamic – it’s all about movement.

The idea, as I understand it, is that we’re all born with something of every number in us. But over time during childhood, we begin to use one number as our primary means of coping with the world. This personality is a mask, a shield, and we use it to function. As adults, we can “live” right there in our number – but when we are healthy emotionally & spiritually, we move across the circle and take on the “high side” characteristics of a different number. And conversely, when we are in stress or in an unhealthy spiritual and emotional zone, we move across the circle to embody the “low side” or “shadow” characteristics of yet a third number.

Lightbulbs all over the place.

Furthermore, every number on the Enneagram has a primary sin to grapple with – and thus, every number needs to practice a different spiritual discipline in order to grow.

The Enneagram, you guys! It doesn’t just slap a label on you: “Hi, I’m A Four!” It takes your hand and says, “You’ve been moving through the world as a Four, but that’s not your true self. You’ve been using Four thoughts, feelings, and behaviors to avoid grappling with the sin that plagues your soul. Move in this direction, friend, and discover the true self that God wants you to be. Teach your spirit how to do this thing, and discover the virtue which counteracts that sin.”

Intrigued? Oh, goody! I’m a newbie, guys, but here are my recommendations (I don’t do affiliate links; I’m not making any kickbacks. I just love these resources):

The Road Back to You, by Ian Morgan Cron & Suzanne Stabile — super easy read. Funny and conversational in tone. These folks love people and love helping people on the Enneagram journey. Companion materials:

The Road Back to You podcast – start with the overview episodes (1 & 2) and then either listen through the entire series, or jump to the ones that talk about your number!

Typology podcast – hosted by Ian Morgan Cron, he has done AWESOME panel discussions with groups of people who embody the same number, and interviews with individuals about their Enneagram journey.

The Road Back To You website with a free Enneagram test. Ian has said on his podcast that online tests, even his own!, is only about 55% accurate. It takes a lot of humility and self-awareness to answer the tests legitimately. But, this test is my favorite of the free options online.

The Enneagram Institute – the information available on this website is at LEAST a whole book’s worth. I love their sections that cover each number’s tendencies “in real life.” The RHETI test is available here for $12. It’s extremely well-researched and takes something like 45 minutes to take, but if you want the reassurance of a “real result” I think it’s worth every dollar.

The Sacred Enneagram, by Chris Heuertz. This book is a little “deeper,” and if you read it first you may find it a little harder to pinpoint your type. But if you are mostly interested in what I’ve said about the Enneagram because of the Christianity connection, this is the book for you. Chris explains the motivations and sin patterns of each type with clarity and meets each type with a recommended spiritual practice that will help them grow in the grace and knowledge of God.

The Complete Enneagram, by Beatrice Chestnut. I first heard Ms. Chestnut on the Typology podcast, and I was drawn in by her warmth and her comprehensive knowledge of the Enneagram. Her studies have focused on the subtypes of each of the 9 numbers. (There are 3 subtypes: Self-Preservation, Social, and One-on-One.) For a few types, the subtypes all look about the same out in the world. But for a few numbers, the subtypes can make a person look and act very differently – which can make it very challenging to figure out your type if you’re just working with the freebie online tests. Not only can this book unlock the question marks if you’re feeling stuck between two numbers, but she lays out excellent questions for self-examination, prayer, and meditation when you are ready to “do the work” of growing beyond the limits of your number.

The Enneagram: A Christian Perspective, by Richard Rohr & Andreas Ebert. This is my latest purchase and I haven’t finished it, so I can’t say much, but the reason I bought it was because so many of the Enneagram teachers I have grown to love and respect site the wisdom and work of Father Richard Rohr. He’s a Franciscan of the Cincinnati Province, and has been teaching the Enneagram for over a decade.

Now here’s the thing: if you are thinking it’s all poppycock, that’s okay. There’s a saying that people come to the Enneagram at just the right time for them. If you aren’t interested, I’m totally cool with that. But if this plucks one of your heartstrings, OH MAN!, come and sing a few bars with me. I love talking through this stuff. I’d happily chat about everything you love or hate or question about it – I’d happily share what I know so far and would love nothing more than to be a sounding board if you’re trying to sort out your number. Email me, comment here, text me, whatever. 😊 XOXO, Michelle

Oh, y’all. Buckle up, this one’s going to be a rambler. I need to talk about what’s going on with Susannah’s health, but before I do that we need to back up to Sunday, March 18, 2018. That morning, I sat in a sanctuary hearing a sermon about healing.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only can you do what was done to the fig tree, but also you can say to this mountain, ‘Go, throw yourself into the sea,’ and it will be done. If you believe, you will receive whatever you ask for in prayer.”

(I’m paraphrasing here, from my sermon notes):

1. We are supposed to pray big, bold, mountain-sized prayers. We pray for healing because Jesus told us to.
2. And yet — we know that God is sovereign and has a mysterious will that we don’t understand. Sometimes faith is the means to bodily healing, but God doesn’t choose to heal everyone in this life.
3. Therefore — we believe that our prayers may change the course of God’s hand, and we accept that our prayers may not. (We might use the language of “Thy will be done” or “not my will, Father, but yours be done.)
4. HOWEVER, while it is possible to pray in faith for healing and not doubt, while humbly submitting to the will of God… sometimes we overqualify our prayers.

OVERqualify. Mmmm-hmmm. In other words, we rest so solidly on our laurels in that sweet spot of “thy will be done,” that we never get around to asking God to do those big, bold, mighty healing works. And the whole time, we’re feeling really good about ourselves because: gosh, isn’t that just so Christian of us to pray for the Lord’s will and not our own?

That hit me right where I live. I do that.

I keep God in the boxes that medicine hands out. When a doctor tells us, there’s a 75% chance of thus-and-so, well, I don’t usually pray outside that box. I pray, “God, help us to deal with thus-and-so with grace and give us the strength to bear our thus-and-so and Lord, if it’s Your will to cure this then we know You can, but mostly, help us to trust You through the pain of it.”

Real talk: when Chris’ oncologist told us his fertility might not come back after chemo, I did that. I kept God in that little box and didn’t hardly dare to pray for complete healing. (Praise the Lord, His plans were bigger than my scared, trifling little heart and mind could manage. i.e.: three blessed Nebel babies on earth and three more in heaven.) And when my mom was told “terminal ovarian cancer,” I did that. I kept God in that little box and didn’t hardly dare to pray for complete healing. (Praise the Lord, He gave us eighteen months together before He healed her on His side of the veil.)

I mulled over this idea, of how maybe I use “thy will be done” as a cop-out for weak faith, all day Sunday.

Monday I woke up at 5:15 for my usual quiet time. I had started 2018 with Paul’s letters, and when I finished those I jumped into the Gospel of John. Cracking open my Bible to the bookmark, I started reading the next chapter (I usually cover one or two chapters each morning). And it was John 9. Of course it was.

As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth.His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?”

“Neither this man nor his parents sinned,” said Jesus, “but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him. As long as it is day, we must do the works of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work. While I am in the world, I am the light of the world.”

After saying this, he spit on the ground, made some mud with the saliva, and put it on the man’s eyes. “Go,” he told him, “wash in the Pool of Siloam” (this word means “Sent”). So the man went and washed, and came home seeing. (John 9:1-7)

…The man answered, “Now that is remarkable! You don’t know where he comes from, yet he opened my eyes. We know that God does not listen to sinners. He listens to the godly person who does his will.Nobody has ever heard of opening the eyes of a man born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.” (John 9:30-33)

What I noticed here was that the blind man didn’t ask Jesus to heal him. In fact, neither did the disciples. Jesus chose to heal this man, but when He did so, He asked the man to take an action. (Go & wash.) The man was obedient to do what Jesus told Him, and his faith and obedience were met with healing. Further, this passage reinforced something that Pastor Jamus had mentioned the day before – the blind man says it like this: “We know that God does not listen to sinners…” And the sermon phrased it this way: “God hears everyone’s prayer, but He is not inclined to listen to every prayer.” Because we live under Christ’s atonement, we can approach him through Christ.

So, my quiet time gave me plenty to keep stewing over.

Tuesday morning, I prepared to leave the house with all three kids – dropping Jonas & Abigail at school, & grooving on down the road to Louisville with Susannah for her 6-month scoliosis checkup. While the house was still dim and quiet, I knelt beside the couch and I prayed.

I prayed big.

I prayed bold.

I asked God to actually HEAL Susannah’s scoliosis.

Knowing that, medically, scoliosis doesn’t heal.

Her doctors say – and the whole medical community is in agreement! —that scoliosis, once diagnosed, can be monitored and treated, but it can’t really be cured. Curvature of the spine of 10° or more will give you a diagnosis of scoliosis. When your curve gets to 25°, doctors will create back braces. Bracing doesn’t reverse existing curvature, but it does slow down the progression of a curve. (Some folks’ curves even return after their bracing treatments end.) If a curve progresses to 45° or greater, back surgery (spinal fusion) will usually be performed to correct the curve.

When Susannah’s was found, her curve was around 11° at 7 years of age. That’s pretty young, though not unheard of (juvenile idiopathic scoliosis is somewhat less common than adolescent onset), and her doctor assured me that typically a child her age just gets X-rays and checkups every six months to monitor the curve until they’ve had their biggest growth spurt (the one that closely precedes puberty). Once a girl finishes growing, her scoliosis typically won’t continue to advance.

At 8-and-a-half, with two sets of X-rays and checkups under her belt, Susannah’s spinal curvature had progressed to 12° and we had both become comfortable with the clinic.

That Tuesday morning, freshly-turned-9-year-old Susannah & I arrived at the scoliosis clinic ready for the routine. Change into a gown, slip into the shorts we brought from home, walk down the hall for X-rays, meet the PA who comes in first to ask a bunch of questions, then speak to the orthopedist, who tells us what the X-rays showed and always reassures Susannah that her only job for the next six months is to run, jump, have fun, & just be a kid until she comes back. And this time, I walked in smiling – feeling sure that somehow, she would be healed and this would be the last time we set foot in this clinic.

My mom-senses started tingling, though, when the PA asked a bunch of questions this time they’d never asked Susannah before. Questions about her feet and legs – do they ever feel funny or do funny things? She had Susannah do a bunch of movements that seemed to be checking her muscles: thigh, calf, feet – and questions about her lifelong history of constipation – in addition to the usual questions about back pain.

When Dr. Meier came in, he continued that line of questioning and then started asking me about setting up orders for further imaging. I felt like he was working his way up to something, beating around the bush, but he finally laid out all his concerns.

Susannah’s curve had progressed three degrees in six months, without a concurrent growth spurt in height to explain it (she is now at 15°). Additionally, her curve is atypical because it’s confined to her lumbar spine (the lower part of the back – usually scoliosis presents in the thoracic spine, behind the ribcage). These factors taken together with the leg pains that began a few years ago, her current level of aches and pains, and her lifelong battles with gastrointestinal difficulties, lead him to believe there’s a good possibility that Susannah may have a tethered spinal cord. To determine that, she needs to have a sedated MRI, which we now have scheduled for April 19, 2018.

Are you with me?

I prayed for complete healing, and I drove to Louisville believing that I would really hear miraculous news. And instead, I heard a doctor tell me that my kid may have a very serious condition which requires a pretty major surgery to prevent irreparable neurological deterioration.

To be brutally honest, I came home feeling pretty shattered.

I managed to do all the mama stuff that afternoon: help with homework and get through dinner and put the kids to bed. I did a little bit of reading about tethered cord syndrome – and even though I didn’t feel good, I started to feel a bit better.

That night, just as I laid my head on the pillow, I had a thought.

One of those thoughts that doesn’t feel like it comes from yourself – it comes from Someone outside yourself.

If they find tethered cord, and perform the surgery to correct it, Susannah will be healed from her scoliosis. And not just healed from that, but she’ll be healed from all those other aches and pains and problems she’s been living with for years now.

Whoa.

Really?

Yeah, really.

I’ve found accounts from families who’ve been through tethered cord surgery. As the child grows, the spine can actually straighten, because the cord release surgery takes away what had been causing the scoliosis. (With ‘normal’ scoliosis, there’s no known cause and so no way to prevent it or to correct it.) If her leg pain is rooted in either neurological issues stemming from the compression where the cord is tethered, or in a compensatory motion type of problem due to the tight tether in her back, then that could resolve after surgery as well. And while some kids don’t get full relief from bladder and bowel troubles with tethered cord release surgery – some do.

We’re about to unplug from the daily grind for our Spring Break vacation, and then we’ll come home and chug through a few weeks of ‘normal,’ and then we’ll take our girl to Louisville for a test and some answers. I sure would love it if you would pray with us. You can pray for God’s will to be done, but you can also pray big, bold, mountain-sized prayers for healing.

In the fall of 1998, I went off to college and found my tribe. The hills of Shorter College and the sisters of Epsilon Sigma sorority gave me an amazing three-and-a-half years of growth and love and challenge and grace and support and meaning. Ep Sig was a huge part of my identity during college, and when I got a few years out of school and didn’t feel like I could keep wearing all my old college T-shirts, I also couldn’t bear to throw them away.

Me in Sept. 1998 wearing a borrowed EpSig jersey on Pledge Night. Since it wasn’t a national sorority, there was no Bid Day stuff to deal with back then. Any unpledged woman could choose to join one of my school’s three sororities. On Pledge Night, she declared her choice in a ceremony that involved, among other things, racing through a series of dormitory hallways and hollering out of a 2nd story window. She received a jersey or shirt in her org’s colors and waited on all the other new pledges to declare, and then the real fun began.

Two years later on Pledge Night. 2000 was my FAVORITE year. In 1998, as a pledge, that night was busy and crazy and fun and stressful – we learned what felt like a million ceremonies, rules, songs, and cheers. In 1999, as a Prospective Big Sis, it was busy and crazy and fun and stressful – we were observing all the Pledges and figuring out who we were going to adopt as Littles (we had so many pledges in ’99 that I actually ended up with twins!). But in 2000, I was a seasoned pro and as a Grand-Big Sis, I got to calmly support my Littles while they were busily and crazily choosing their own Littles (one single and one set of twins).

A friend and sorority sister posted a photo on Facebook last week of her college shirts, transformed into a T-shirt quilt. A few days later, my Big Sis sent me a package in the mail saying “happy 20th anniversary.” Together, those two events prompted me to get my box of shirts off the shelf and finally do something with everything I’d been saving. I did a little bit of googling around and found that this was my favorite tutorial/how-to/tips post. (I will say that I’m regretting that I didn’t go get a Plexiglas square cut out at Home Depot like she suggests, because some of my squares were off and I have a little measurement issue I’m going to have to fix.)

So this is the shirt fronts and/or backs cut into squares, backed with lightweight interfacing, and stitched into rows. (See how the 4th row is a little shorter than the rest? That’s what I’ve got to work on next.)

I’ll update when I finish it. It will be neat to see & use (albeit in a new way) these shirts all the time again, twenty(ish) years later.

In August 2016, I blogged about how I had started running for fun. Also fitness. Also I had signed up for a big race. I wrote about how much I enjoyed it and hoped it would be something I could stick with long-term. And two years after I started… I really love it. I’m not great at it. But I love it (almost 100% of the time. Maybe 92%. There are always bad days, bad runs, whatever). I’m pretty slow. I’m too socially anxious to join a running group. I’m never going to win any medals, is what I’m saying. Oh, and I’m injury prone — probably as a result of living most of my 35 years as a non-athletic, naturally fairly petite couch potato. Now that I’ve gotten more active, I have to do a lot of work to keep my body moving without aches and pains.

Since taking up this sport in January 2016 I’ve run four 5Ks, one 15K, and one half-marathon.

I’ve missed weeks on end with iliotibial band syndrome, complications of hypermobility syndrome, a sprained ankle, and a fractured talus. (That’s a little bone in your foot, and that’s a ridiculous story. I’ll tell that some other day.) I’ve missed at least two races signed & paid for that I DNS (did not start) because of injury.

Yet I’m still running. I now try to run 3 or 4 days per week, and I try to do some cross-training, strength training, and yoga two days a week. I get a massage every single week, chiropractic adjustment once a month, and I’ve got my physical therapist on speed-dial in case I re-injure myself (or injure something new, just to keep life interesting).

I’m training now for my second half-marathon in May. I’ll try to remember to check in afterward and report if I’m still in this.

I kinda hope I’ll be one of those little old ladies still running when I’m sixty. (Maybe by then the field will have narrowed and I’ll win an age group medal. Ha!)